Once upon a Pokemon
by Krimsonkoi
Summary: A pokemon.  What happens?  Start reading...
1. Ending

Once upon a pokemon

Night. Day. What was the difference? It was just all the same. No matter what he did, he fell always flat in the end. This time he was really going to go flat.

To be continued... 


	2. Sixteen then One

Chapter 2

Sixteen then One

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Pokemon series :P and do not plan on making that my priority.

**Author's Note: **Sup.

He couldn't take it anymore. He just had to end it. Sometimes you just suddenly get a euphoric blast in your world and you realize there's no point. This is what happened to Patrick the previous morning.

Rain pounded on his face. He looked down in terror but also in determination. He could do it. He could end it.

He hadn't always had a shitty life. Growing up with a family of sixteen Pikachus, he was perfectly content. He was the 6th youngest in the bunch, so that put him in a good spot. He wasn't picked on by the older ones, but also didn't have all the responsibilities of his older siblings. Life was good. Mom worked as a therapy pet and dad was a chili dog vendor. Until Patrick's dad made the mistake that one night.

He was out late with some local Pikachu buddies. Work was getting a little stressful, and he just needed to have some downtime. They got shit-faced drunk that night. Patrick's dad was talking about how he wanted to fly to the clouds and then make it sprinkle marijuana. He was totally out of it. Anyways, in his out-of-mind state, he lost a bet to another Pikachu during a competition for who could quaff down the most ketchup, and ended owing money to the wrong bunch of Pikachus. Not aware of the unfortunate event, he went home feeling like a fucked up little yellow ball of shit (which he was) and spent the next 4 hours letting the toilet have it. After his episode, he went to bed and never woke up. The mob of Pikachus at the bar had hired hit-Jigglypuffs to kill his family. That night none of the Chu-Chus survived. Except for one.

Patrick had to do it. He couldn't take it anymore. Living his life alone wasn't the problem. At least not completely. But once his family was massacred, he realized he didn't deserve to be a Chu-Chu. How could he, of all Pikachu's, make his family name remembered, when he was the only one left. The best thing he could do was to be known as the monotone employee of the Johto Plushie Factory for people who were too lame to go out and catch their own damn pokemon and wanted something cute and fluffy to waste their time looking at.

One step was all he needed to cause him to tumult to the ground and end his misery.

"I can't do anything to bring back my family name," he whispered. "I don't deserve to be a Chu-Chu."

He shut his eyes, prepared.

"Whatcha doin on the roof, chap?"

WTF? Why would someone talk to him now? This was hard enough. He turned his head around but it was hard to see the creepy figure in the pounding rain.

"You enjoying the sprinkles? It's nice and warm!" the voice exclaimed cheerily.

"Uhh yeah I kinda want to be alone though so please fuck the hell off, Cheerio," said Patrick, annoyed.

"Aww, does someone need a hug?"

"No."

"Well I think you just need some hugs and kisses to make it all better!"

"Whatever, you're just wasting my time," replied Patrick.

He turned around and suddenly made the move. One foot stepped off the building and he prepared to die.


	3. Distractions

Chapter 3

Distractions

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon nor do I plan to.**

**Author's Note: OMG sup.**

Just as Patrick was about to make his descent into death, he was grabbed from behind.

"Hugs and kisses! Oops, watch where you step chum, you don't want to end up being a pancake down there!"

Patrick felt like stabbing himself. Even better, stabbing this little British thing that kept on distracting him. He sighed and opened his eyes, turning around to face the high-pitched voice.

"You know, I love pancakes. Especially pechaberry ones. Rich and fluffy, oooohh! Just thinking about them makes me want to curl up into a ball and suck my thumb!"

Two big and bulgy eyes were staring at him almost too intently. Patrick realized he was staring at a shroomish. He had heard about these, and although they weren't very common near the area, he knew that he would never get along with one.

"So whats your name?" the shroomish asked.

"Ugh… seriously, why now? Um… it's Patrick. Why do you keep bugging me. I am not interested in your retarded happy-rainbow hugs."

"OMG I used to have a cactus named Patrick! Maybe your him only after… he… died…" The mysterious shroomish suddenly started forming tears in his huge eyes.

"Uh, you don't need to cry. It's just a name and I'm no cactus ghost. Hey, look on the bright side. Patrick-Cactus is in a better place now."

"I guess you're right…" the shroomish said, controlling his emotions. Talk about bi-polar. "Well my names Shroomy. Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, ok. Look, you should be heading home, there's nothing interesting up here," Patrick replied.

"Well you're here, that's interesting. What are you doing anyways? Having a midnight picnic?"

Patrick sighed. "No. I'm trying to finish some business. Can you _please_ just leave me alone?"

"I can help!" Shroomy exclaimed.

_Well I could push him off the edge and that would solve my problems… _thought Patrick, but he wasn't that type of Pokemon. No matter how much Shroomy's happy-rainbow attitude bugged him, he could never see himself committing murder to fellow Pokemon. "I'm done. Sorry. I was actually just heading home. It was nice meeting you, but I really should get going."

"Home? Awww we just met! You gotta give me your telephone number chap! That way I can call you and we can plan some tea time parties!" Shroomy announced excitedly.

"Uhh I don't have a phone," Patrick lied.

"No phone? Well then I'll come by your house. Give me your address!"

Patrick decided he had had enough. He pushed the shroomish out of the way and walked to the door leading downstairs. Before Shroomy could react, he flew open the door and slammed it shut, evading the little bugger. He ran down the stairs and eventually out of the building. "Guess I'm gonna have to do it tomorrow…" he muttered to himself. He knew he was still going to do it. There was no way he could live on his life with nothing to live for.

"Wait Patty wait!" Shroomy's voice echoed behind him.

"What do I have to do to get rid of that fucking shroom!" Patrick cursed to himself. He broke into a sprint and ran to the parking lot. After finding his car he put it in gear and drove off going 60mph in the middle of the night.

"That was close…" Patrick murmured.

**Sorry to end it so short, don't have time to finish it. Hope it doesn't suck as I'm a shitty author and have no skill like my friend TimesChange. **


	4. Decisions

Decisions

Rain pounded on the windshield, almost drowning out all other sounds. Patrick turned plugged in his PokeMe music player in an attempt to listen to something else other than the melanchony beat of the rain; his house was about half an hour away in surburban Fopopo. He scrolled through his list of artists and picked his favorite band. They always seemed to help him get through his synonymous days despite the fact that they were people.

For the most part, Patrick hated the idea of people. They treated Pokémon like little puppets. Except for the fact that they don't normally stick their hands up one's ass. But hey, what did it matter anymore? Life wasn't worth living right?

Patrick found himself in a dilemma. He really didn't know if he could take his own life. I mean, there were Pokémon commiting suicide all the time. The other day he read in the Mr. Mime Times an article where a disturbed Diglett set up a whack-a-mole stand in downtown Fopopo and was whacked to death by little evil children. That Diglett must have been really fed up with life to die in such a demoralizing way.

The problem Patrick was having trouble overcoming in his head though, was that all those suicides seemed to just make the world a worse and more depressing place and it never really solved the heart of the problem. That Diglett maybe escaped his life problems, but he probably wasn't having a much better one now.

What really bugged him was this Shroomi. As fucking rip-your-eyes-out annoying he was, he actually showed care for Patrick. Nobody had really even noticed Patrick his whole life. He was just an orphaned Pikachu, living his days until he would eventually die. Alone. But Shroomi seemed to actually want to get to know Patrick. He barely met him (and on a roof of all things) and yet he had asked for his phone number. Maybe he should wait a while before taking any drastic actions. Maybe he could make something out of his so-far shitty life.

Patrick spotted a Pizza Ty-Phlosion parlor. Patricks stomach grumbled. He realized he hadn't eaten since lunch as he didn't really think about him during his little psycho-suicide state. He slowed his car down and decided to stop for a bite while he thought things through.

Arriving at the stone curb, Patrick killed the engine and hopped out of the high-seat that was perfectly placed in the driver's seat so he could see where he was going. He didn't even have to worry about his seat-belt, he might as well just ripped it out of his car, he never used it.

Entering the pizza place, his nostrils were overwhelmed with alluring scents of a variety of pizza ingredients. He picked a spot to sit down and looked at the menu. He was glad it was pretty much based on a create-your-own style. He hated those pre-picked pizza flavors every pizza place had; they always either had something he hated or didn't have something he desired.

After mulling over the menu for a few minutes, Patrick was greeted by a Charmander waiter. He only seemed to be about 13 years old at most.

"Hey there mister. What can I do for ya this evening?"

Patrick sighed. He had such an overwhelming night, he didn't want to talk to anymore Pokemon.

"Um… I guess I'll just go for the regular whole wheat crust, Cherri sauce and smoked Spoink. Thanks."

Detecting the weariness in Patrick's voice the Charmander just jotted down the order and walked away to the kitchen.

So, Patrick had to make a decision on what to do next. He could end his unhappy life, or live it out a little longer and see what happensed. Maybe being a little optimistic could get him something out of it. He could go back to college, or maybe he could find a job as an electrician. Take a little rip visiting other places. Maybe not everywhere was a hell hole like Fopopo.

Only 5 minutes after he ordered, Patrick's pizza arrived. The Charmander hurriedly placed it on the table and asked Patrick if he would like it to go. Patrick nodded and in a flash the Charmander disappeared back into the kitchen. Patrick grabbed a slice while he was waiting and wolfed it down in one bite due to his squirrel like facial structure. He could fit an insane amount of stuff in there.

"Hmm. This is actually pretty good. That Spoink is top notch quality-must have been slaughtered just this week." Patrick decided to make note of the parlor. Suddenly the Charmander reappeared and gave him a box for a pizza. Patrick thanked the Charmander and wondered why it was still standing there like a peacock. Then he realized he still needed to pay. Taking out his Pokemoney from his wallet he kept in his pouch, Patrick payed the Charmander a good tip.

Leaving the parlor, he noticed that the rain had only increased. He sighed and hopped back in his car and putting the box of pizza on the passenger seat, not before taking a slice for the ride, which was only 5 minutes away to his house. He then put the pedal to the metal and attempted to survive the drive home. He could hear thunder up above. _Zapdos must be having his special time…_ he thought humorously.

He shortly arrived to his house in one piece, and stopped the car, parking it by his humble little home made of rock. He liked it, it was better than no home at all and it actually was in a nice and quiet neighborhood just for Pokemon. He went inside, taking the pizza with him, and was welcomed with that familiar smell you get when you walk in your house after a long day. He stopped by the fridge and popped the pizza in. He was pooped. Looking at the clock by his coffee table, he saw it was 1 a.m.

"Wow, I don't even know what to say to that," he muttered to himself. He could barely make it to his little room before plopping on his bed and hugging his pillow to his face. He loved the smell, fresh ocean breeze Febreeze, ahhhh. Nothing better. Suddenly his phone rang. Patrick yelled in his pillow. _Why the fuck would someone call at this time at night? _Let alone the fact that he rarely got phone calls unless it was from stupid soliciters. He debated whether or not to pick it up.

By the third ring Patrick just decided to answer it. Picking it up, he lifted his face out of his pillow to see answer.

"Hello?" he mumbled.

_"Is this Patrick?" _the speaker said mysteriously.

"Uh yeah, who is this?" he replied.

"_Se-" _Suddenly Patrick heard a click.


	5. A Hard Awakening

"That was weird…" Patrick said to himself. He knew it was probably just a prank call. He regretted ever even buying a phone. If the only Pokemon who were going to call him were trying to either sell him weird blankets with holes for arms or pranking him at two in the morning, what was the point? He sighed heavily and unplugged the stupid device. He then walked over to his little bedroom and dropped himself on the bed.

He contemplated that phone call for some while before he actually fell asleep. "What if that was important? It could have been my boss. Or a long lost relative… Will I regret not calling them back?" He couldn't help but have a bad feeling in his head about the call. However, he really needed some rest. "They didn't leave a name and it's their fault for calling me at two in the morning. Like I said, it was probably just a prank." And with that last thought, he drifted off into a deep sleep.

The next morning, Patrick awoke with a thud on his floor. "This must be a sign…" he muttered. His luck just sucked. With two bruised feet he painfully stood up and looked at the clock. "2 p.m.? Geez, good thing it's a Saturday." Then he thought about it for a moment. He hated Saturdays. He didn't ever know what to do with his free time. After the events which took place the previous night, he decided to delay the whole jumping-off-the-roof thing for a couple of days. The fact that someone had actually wanted to schedule time with him (albeit "tea-time"…) touched him in a place untouched in years. Maybe all Pokemon out there weren't so bad. He still couldn't get through the idea of having an acquaintance, let alone a friendship with that shroomish though. It was way too annoying and creepy. Thinking about that big-eyed stare of his just gave Patrick the shivers.

Eventually, Patrick decided to just take a walk. Maybe he could make it last all day. After all, he did have the ability to walk around the entire landmass. Patrick glanced outside to see what the weather was like. After the previous night he wouldn't be surprised if it was still raining. When the sun blinded him after he lifted the blinds on his window he knew the rain had passed however. That made his trip a little easier. He grabbed his backpack and a book and headed out the door.


End file.
